Cupid, and Nietzsche, and Chocolate Oh My!
by ddanne
Summary: Boris and Annabelle are making plans for Valentine's Day. But, the best laid plans. . . .!
1. Chapter 1

**Cupid, and Nietzsche, and Chocolate. . .Oh My!**

OK. . .back in 2011, I wrote a Valentine's Day story for Boris and Annabelle. I decided to "tweak" it a bit, before I post it. I know it's off-season. . .but I just wanted to write SOMETHING?! ENJOY!

Annabelle is a character I created back in the first season of "Royal Pains". If you want to check out the very beginnings of Boris and Annabelle's romance, check out "Boris &amp; the First Invitation".

Enjoy!

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own Boris or any of the "Royal Pains" characters.

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**Cupid, and Nietzsche, and Chocolate. . .Oh My! - Chapter One**

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Boris stood in the connecting doorway, looking into the bedroom that Annabelle used. She was curled up on the upholstered chaise, looking out the French doors at the snow. She was holding something in her hand, but Boris couldn't see what it was; her back was to the door.

"What has captured your attention, Prinzessin?"

Annabelle looked over her shoulder at Boris and smiled. "Oh. . .I came in here looking for a book, and I found some pictures I had forgotten about. I started looking at them. . .and I guess I just lost track of time?!"

Boris walked over to the chaise. Annabelle moved her feet, and he sat down. "Valentine's Day. . .last year!" She handed him the packet of pictures. "Romances I never read like those I have seen!"

"Ah. . .Lord Byron!" Boris smiled warmly at Annabelle as he took the pictures from her, and thought back to their 'celebration'; it had started in the conservatory. . .and ended in his bedroom. Most of the pictures had been taken in the conservatory; Annabelle had wanted to have dinner there among the hothouse flowers. Boris slowly thumbed through the pictures. He hated having his picture taken – he had always been self-conscious about his ears! – but Annabelle usually insisted. . .and she could be VERY persuasive! "I had forgotten about these, as well! Dieter took them, did he not?"

Annabelle chuckled, and nodded her head. "He did!" She hesitated, and then continued. "Well. . .he took MOST of them!"

Boris continued looking at the pictures. There were several pictures of the two of them together; in one, Annabelle appeared to be whispering in his ear. Boris held it up to show Annabelle. "I remember this one; I believe you were making an indecent proposal, ja?!"

"Ha! You should be so lucky?!" She nudged him gently with her foot.

Suddenly, his eyes widened, as did his grin. "Oh, Annabelle. . .regarding that indecent proposal?!" Boris held up one of the photos.

Annabelle looked at the picture Boris was holding, and chuckled. "Ah, yes. . .well. . .Dieter DEFINITELY did NOT take that one!" Annabelle made a playful grab for the photo; chuckling, Boris held it out of her reach.

"Did we really. . .?!"

"Yes, Boris. . .we really did! I think last Valentine's Day was our most. . .hmmm. . .adventurous?!" Annabelle could feel herself starting to blush as she thought about their Valentine's Day celebration last year. "Yes. . .definitely adventurous!"

"Well. . .how shall we celebrate Valentine's Day this year?"

"Oh. . .BUGGER! Why do we have to celebrate at all?!" Boris started to answer, but Annabelle stopped him. "Boris. . .you know I HATE Valentine's Day?!"

"Still?! Annabelle, I would have thought that having someone with which to share Valentine's Day would have changed your feelings?!"

Annabelle regretted her flippant response the instant she saw the look on Boris's face. "Oh, Boris, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to sound quite so. . .ungrateful. And, you're right! I don't DREAD Valentine's Day nearly as much as I used to?! I STILL don't love it, but. . .?!" Annabelle's voice trailed off, her sentence left unfinished.

"Hmpf?! High praise, indeed!"

Annabelle's guilt evaporated like dew on a hot summer morning. "Oh, bloody hell, Boris! You know what I meant! The fact that I hate Valentine's Day is NOT a reflection on you! And this is why I LOATHE Valentine's Day! It's a ridiculous, made-up holiday; people expect too much, and they're ALWAYS disappointed!"

"Well! I think, perhaps, Prinzessin, that Cupid would disagree!"

"Oh. . .THBTTTTTTTT! Cupid is nothing more than a pudgy homunculus!" Boris opened his mouth to respond, then, shaking his head, closed it again. "Don't give me that look, Boris! Ambrose Bierce said it first; more than a hundred years ago, I might add. I'm just. . .giving him the validation he so richly deserves?! A pudgy homunculus, Boris. . .NOT the god of desire?!"

"Ah, I see!" Boris watched Annabelle stuff the photos back into the envelope. "Well, 'pudgy homunculus' would be the answer to the question, 'what is your opinion of Cupid?' It does NOT, however, answer the question, 'how do you want to celebrate Valentine's Day' THIS year! So, Annabelle. . . we have a decision to make, you and I. Because, pudgy homunculus or god of desire. . we WILL be celebrating Valentine's Day – together!"

Annabelle sighed, and threw her hands up in mock surrender. "Boris. . .you're like a dog with a bloody bone!" She glanced out the window again; it was snowing harder now. "All right, Boris; if I get a vote, then, I vote that we just stay in?!" She gave Boris what she considered to be her most seductive smile! "You know I love having you all to myself!"

Boris looked skeptical. "Are you sure, Prinzessin?! I do own a jet! We could go anywhere in the WORLD to celebrate Valentine's Day!"

Hmmm?! Annabelle stopped to consider for a moment; maybe she was being selfish?! "Boris. . .is that what YOU want to do for Valentine's Day?! Do YOU want to go away?!"

Boris hesitated, then answered. "I want to do whatever will make you happy, Prinzessin?!"

"Good answer, mein herr!" Annabelle Boris a speculative look, and then decided to take a different tack. "Boris. . .do you remember our first Valentine's Day together?"

"I do indeed, Prinzessin. I remember every detail!"

Skeptical, Annabelle raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Oh, please?!"

"You doubt me, Prinzessin? You wound me deeply!" Boris rubbed his eyebrow with his thumb, gathering his thoughts. "I see that I must PROVE my love and devotion?!" Annabelle made a noise that could only be described as a snort, and Boris continued. "Bitte. . .ask me anything about that evening!"

"All right. . .let's start with something easy! Where did we celebrate our first Valentine's Day?"

"Ah! You disappoint me, Annabelle! We celebrated here. . .at Shadow Pond! I WANTED to take you to Paris. . .but you refused to go!"

"No. . .I didn't actually REFUSE to go. I just didn't WANT to go! There IS a difference, Boris; a HUGE difference! You KNOW I hate Paris!"

"Ja, I know that now. . .as you have told me. . .many, MANY times! Ask me another question; something a bit more challenging this time!"

"Hmph?! All right. . .your wish is my command! What did we have for dinner?"

"Hmmmmm. . .I believe. . .we had filet mignon, ja?! And fresh asparagus. There was an exquisite French champagne. . .and some sort of decadent dessert, with chocolate, and cherries!"

Annabelle gave Boris a sheepish grin. "Bloody hell. . .I remember that champagne! I think I got a little tipsy?!"

Boris returned her grin. "Ja. . .and you get delightfully amorous when you get tipsy!"

"Hmpf?! You WOULD remember THAT?!" Annabelle smiled, and wagged her finger at Boris. "All right, mein herr; prepare to be challenged?!" Annabelle paused, for dramatic effect. "And you'll NEVER get this! WHAT. . .was I wearing?!"

The corner of his mouth tugged into one of those little half-smiles that Annabelle found irresistible. "Well. . .if I recall correctly. . .you were wearing black satin pants – cigarette pants, you called them – and a red. . .a red tank top, ja? It had. . .was ist das wort?!" Boris made a little gesture with his hands, as if he were juggling his words. "They. . .sparkled in the candlelight?!"

Annabelle shook her head in amazement! "Paillettes! It had red paillettes. And I am absolutely gobsmacked?!"

Boris chuckled, enjoying his small victory. "When will you learn to trust me, Annabelle?! I TOLD you. . .I remember every detail of that evening! I remember that your eyes looked like the rarest of emeralds in the candlelight. I remember that your perfume was. . .spicy. . .and exotic. And I remember the red satin lingerie that you were wearing!"

Smiling. . .Annabelle put her hand over his mouth. "HA! You WOULD remember my knickers?!" Boris playfully batted her hand away. "That was truly impressive, Boris! I am in awe! Most men wouldn't remember all those details!"

"Danke schön, Prinzessin. . .but I am NOT most men! Now. . .quid pro quo, Annabelle! What do YOU remember about our first Valentine's Day?"

Annabelle smiled warmly at Boris. "Well. . .I remember. . .there were rose petals everywhere – red rose petals – and a giant box of Butlers Chocolates on my pillow!" Annabelle had been lounging back against the end of the chaise. Suddenly, she sat up and pointed her finger at Boris. "AND. . .I remember. . .we bought each other the same gift!"

"I thought that was very romantic!"

"Hmpf?! Yes, romantic. . .just like an O. Henry story?! I gave you a first edition collection of Edna St. Vincent Millay's poems in German. . .and you gave me the same bloody book. . . in English!"

"Two perfect gifts!"

"Hmmmmm. . .the whole evening was perfect! Boris. . .PLEASE?! I really don't want to argue with you! I'm begging you; let's just stay in for Valentine's Day! We BOTH hate crowds! The food here is better than any restaurant in the Hamptons. And I really do LOVE having you all to myself! No cell phones, no computers; just you, and me, and that big old antique bed of yours! Oh. . .and chocolate! There MUST be chocolate!"

"Chocolate?!" Boris stretched his arms out to his sides, and then crossed them over his chest. "Your proposal IS tempting! But. . .I am not yet convinced?!"

Smiling, Annabelle reached out, and, grabblng his necktie, pulled Boris towards her, kissing him as she spoke. "Well. . .for every man. . .there exists a bait. . .which he cannot resist swallowing?!"

"Ha?! Annabelle. . .it is a rare woman who can make Nietzsche sound seductive!"

"Boris?"

"Ja?"

"If you stop talking, we could start celebrating Valentine's Day?!"

"But. . .Valentine's Day is not until next week?!"

"Oh, Boris. . .just shut up. . .and kiss me!"

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I know. . .it's a little corny. . .isn't it?! But. . .feedback is still appreciated! Let me know what you think! THANKS!

I don't know where to go next. I have a number of options:

*writing another chapter for the Valentine's Day story I just tweaked

*writing another chapter for the Halloween story I started last year

*tweaking the story when Annabelle meets Dmitry for the first time

*tweaking the story when Annabelle and Boris go to the Anderson School to visit her pony

*tweaking the story when Annabelle goes to Shadow Pond for the first time for dinner

Any thoughts?! I'm leaning towards the Halloween story.


	2. Chapter 2

I originally posted "Cupid, and Nietzsche, and Chocolate. . .Oh My!" back in 2014. It was originally supposed to be a one and done, but then I wrote a second chapter back in July. I hope you enjoy Chapter Two, and, as always. . .feedback is always appreciated!

Cupid, and Nietzsche, and Chocolate. . .Oh My!

Chapter Two

Udo opened the door, and Annabelle walked into the library. Boris had called her earlier that morning, inviting her for lunch.

It was a raw February day – cold and windy, with an occasional snow squall. Annabelle was dressed warmly, in black leggings and a cowl neck tunic, made from a soft tweedy knit, with a turtleneck underneath. She wore low-heeled, slouchy boots on her feet.

"It's brass monkeys out there!"

Boris was sitting at his desk, drinking a cup of coffee. He was surrounded by folders and papers; both his cell phone and his tablet sat, side by side, in front of him. He looked up when Annabelle spoke, then glanced out the windows; the wind was swirling snowflakes around the frozen gardens.

"I am not familiar with that particular idiom, but I am assuming that it refers to the cold weather, ja?"

Annabelle chuckled. "It does indeed; it's twelve bloody degrees."

As Annabelle approached, she heard his phone chime, indicating a text message. He picked up the phone, read the text, and typed a quick response.

"What is all this, Boris?"

"Just some business I needed to attend to, Annabelle." His phone chimed a second time; once again, he picked up the phone, read the text, and typed another quick response.

"Boris!"

"I am sorry, Prinzessin. This is a matter of some urgency." Boris slipped the phone into the inside pocket of his suit coat, and stood, stepping out from behind his desk to greet Annabelle. "Please, Annabelle. . .come and sit; I invited you here to have lunch, not to argue."

"Not so fast, bucko. I don't want to argue, but. . ." Annabelle suddenly began to cough, not finishing her sentence.

A look of concern flashed across his face. "Annabelle, are you ill?"

Still coughing, Annabelle shook her head. She was finally able to answer when the coughing subsided. "No. . .I don't think so?" She coughed a few more times, and then continued. "I was rummaging through the clutter up in my tower room yesterday; I think the dust stirred up my allergies."

Boris looked skeptical as he walked Annabelle to the small table, which had been set for luncheon. They sat, and the servants began serving – soup and sandwiches, perfect for a cold winter day.

They chatted as they ate. As Annabelle continued to cough, Boris became more concerned.

The servants served dessert, and then departed.

Annabelle took a bite of the warm apple dumpling. "Yummy!" She took another bite, and then put her fork down. "OK, Boris. . .why am I here?" Her voice was starting to sound raspy.

Boris hesitated, then answered. "Well, Prinzessin, we need to discuss our plans for Valentine's Day."

Trying not to cough, Annabelle gave Boris a flirty smile. "Ah! I went shopping the other day, Boris. I bought a new outfit for Valentine's Day. Actually, I bought two new outfits – one for dinner. . .and one for dessert."

"Dessert, Prinzessin?"

"Yes, Boris. . .an outfit for dessert. Wink wink, nudge nudge, Bob's your uncle!"

Boris flashed Annabelle a rueful smile, and then shook his head. "Annabelle. . .we may have to. . .postpone. . .our Valentine's Day plans."

Annabelle stopped coughing long enough to respond. "Postpone?"

"Ja."

"Why?"

Boris sighed, not really wanting to start the inevitable argument. "There is a problem in Madrid. My presence is needed."

Annabelle shook her head in disbelief. "Sooooo. . .let me see if I understand. You badgered me for DAYS to make plans for Valentine's Day. We AGREED; we were spending Valentine's Day TOGETHER, here at Shadow Pond. NOW. . .you're jetting off to Madrid, leaving me here, twiddling my thumbs?"

"No! Annabelle, you did not allow me to finish. I want you to accompany me. As soon as my business is concluded, we can celebrate Valentine's Day in Madrid."

"Hmph! Sweet Pea, in all of our. . .discussions. . .did I ever once say, 'Oh, Boris, please please PLEASE whisk me off to Madrid for Valentine's Day'?"

"Annabelle, Madrid is a beautiful city; it can be quite romantic. There are many sites that I think you might enjoy – the Prado, the Museo Reina Sofia, the Mercado de San Miguel, the Temple of Debod, Retiro Park, the Palacio Real. . . ."

"Boris, I've been to Madrid. I've been to the Prado, I've been to the Museo Reina Sofia, I've seen 'Guernica', I've shopped at the Mercado de San Miguel. I have no desire to celebrate Valentine's Day in Madrid."

Boris seemed surprised. "When did you visit Madrid?"

"Several years ago, before you and I met. My friend Charlotte was hungry for tapas; we ended up in Madrid."

Boris was determined not to get dragged into one of Annabelle's circuitous arguments. "Well, I am confident that I can change your mind. So, you will accompany me to Madrid, ja?"

Annabelle took another bite of the apple dumpling, and then wagged her fork towards Boris. "Boris, me accompanying you on a business trip always sounds like such a good idea. . .but then the wheels ALWAYS fall off the wagon. We almost broke up in Copenhagen."

Boris tried to conceal his shock, but failed. "We did?"

"Yes, Sweet Pea, we did; I just didn't tell you."

Boris was starting to lose patience. "Annabelle, you are behaving like a spoiled child."

"And you are acting like a condescending ass. Boris, what did I tell you after the trip to Athens?"

"You said you would never accompany me on another business trip."

"I believe what I said was never, ever, EVER, not in a million years, not even if hell freezes over!"

"Annabelle, would you please be so kind as to explain to me WHY you are so adverse to accompanying me on this – or any – business trip?"

"Boris, every time I go with you on a business trip, we end up fighting. Granted, the make-up sex is usually extraordinary. . .and then you buy me jewelry, which is also usually extraordinary. . .but, I, for one, just find it all SO exhausting."

Boris shook his head, and absently rubbed his eyebrow with his thumb. "Annabelle, I still do not understand. We travel by private jet; we stay in five star hotels. You always have a guide, and a car and driver at your disposal, and yet. . .you are displeased?"

"Oh, Boris! It's never been the accommodations that displeased me."

"Then, what?"

"Boris. . .I really don't want to argue."

"Nor do I, Prinzessin, but. . .I would like an answer to my question."

Annabelle coughed, then sighed. "Time."

Boris looked confused. "Time?" He shook his head, and shrugged his shoulders. "Time. I am afraid that I do not understand, Annabelle?"

Now it was Annabelle's turn to shake her head. "I just never realized how much time you would be spending behind closed doors, wheeling and dealing, and how little time you would have left over to spend with me. I'm really little more than an afterthought on these business trips of yours."

"An afterthought?"

"For lack of a better word. . .yes. Now. . .can we PLEASE change the subject? Aren't you the least bit interested in my new outfits?"

Boris shook his head, as if to clear it. "No, not at the moment, Prinzessin. I really need to understand your objections."

"Arghhh!" Frustrated, Annabelle ran her hands through her hair. "Boris, what is the point?" When Boris didn't answer, Annabelle continued. "Boris, although I am loath to admit. . .you may actually be correct." She smiled when she saw Boris raise his eyebrows. "I may be. . .just a wee bit spoiled. I admit – I want you all to myself; I don't like to share. And when you leave me sitting all by myself in the hotel room, cooling my heels. . .I get pissed."

"But, Annabelle, there is no need for you to spend time alone."

"Ah, yes. . .you are referring to the occasional wife – or mistress – who accompanies one of your minions on these business trips."

"Ja."

"Well. . .I would much rather be spending time with you. And these women bring their own complications to the table."

"Complications?"

Annabelle smiled when she saw the quizzical look on his face. "Oh, Boris. . .you aren't going to be satisfied until I lay all my cards on the table, are you?"

Boris returned her smile. "No, Prinzessin, I am not."

"Hmph! Be careful what you wish for, Boris." Annabelle tapped her fingernails on the table, gathering her thoughts. "All right. Do you remember when we went to Vancouver?"

Boris nodded, remembering the trip. "Ja. There was a problem with a set of contracts."

"Yes. And one of your attorneys brought his wife."

"Ja. Krüger, Leopold Krüger. He has been handling contracts for us for many years; he does occasionally bring his wife along."

Annabelle pointed her index finger at Boris. "That's the one. And what was his wife's name?" 

"Ah. . .Hilde. A formidable woman."

"Well. . .I was going to go with something a little less. . .kind. . .but, let us go with formidable. Anyhoo. . .if you recall, she and I went sightseeing. Now, I love Vancouver, and I had a whole list of things I wanted to do. But, because of Hilde, I didn't get to do any of the things that I wanted to do. . .not one bloody thing."

Boris looked confused. "Annabelle, I do not understand."

"Hilde just. . .took over. She called me the 'new girl', Boris. The 'new girl'! And then she just took over. She pooh poohed everything I wanted to do. And she spent the entire day regaling me with stories about all of the tall, blonde, gorgeous women you dated before you met me. All in all. . .a banner day."

Boris absently rubbed his eyebrow with his thumb. "Annabelle. . .why would you let Hilde bully you?"

Annabelle shrugged her shoulders. "Because I love you, you bloody wanker!"

"Annabelle. . .that makes no sense."

"Boris, I love you. And I don't ever want to do anything that reflects badly on you. I wanted to tell Hilde to bugger off. . .but I didn't."

"And you did not see fit to tell me any of this?" Boris looked hurt.

"No." Feeling sheepish, Annabelle shook her head. "You get so focused when you're in crisis mode. . .I just didn't want to bother you."

"Annabelle. . .have there been more of these incidents? These. . .complications?"

Before Annabelle could answer, she started coughing again. When her coughing subsided, Annabelle cleared her throat, then answered. "One. . .or two. . .perhaps?"

Boris eyed her skeptically. "Would you care to enlighten me?"

Annabelle took a gulp of water, trying to stave off more coughing. "No. Boris. . .it's all water under the bridge at this point."

Boris shrugged his shoulders. "Humor me, Annabelle."

Annabelle sighed, and shook her head. "Well. . .things went less than swimmingly in Geneva."

"Geneva." Boris was trying to recall that particular trip. "Geneva. . .with Baasir Sultan's wife?"

Annabelle nodded at Boris. "Yes. Akilah."

"You are being frustratingly reticent, Annabelle. What happened in Geneva?"

Annabelle knew that Boris was getting frustrated with her. . .but she was getting frustrated with him, as well. "Boris, there were no 'international incidents', if that's what you're worried about." She made little air quotes around 'international incidents'. "We just didn't see eye to eye."

"On. . .what?"

"On anything. We come from vastly different backgrounds, Boris. Don't forget; I am sleeping with a man to whom I am not married. . .and she did not approve." Annabelle shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "I think I was just much too westernized for her taste."

Boris could see he was not going to get any more details about Geneva. "What happened in Athens?"

Surprised, Annabelle arched her eyebrows, and absently drummed her fingernails on the table. "What makes you think that something happened in Athens?"

"It was after the trip to Athens that you proclaimed you would never accompany me on another business trip. You were very angry; I am assuming something happened to provoke that anger."

"Well. . .there was an incident – of very little import, really – in Athens, but that's not why I was angry."

"Then, I will ask you again, Annabelle. What angered you in Athens?"

"Hmph! That would be you, Sweet Pea."

"Me? I was tied up in meetings for three days; what could I have done to anger you so?"

Annabelle flashed Boris an insincere smile. "Think about what you just said, darling."

Boris thought for a moment, studying Annabelle's face. . .and then it dawned on him. "You were angry that I was doing business, and not spending time with you?"

"Ding! Ding! Ding! Give that handsome man a cigar."

"Annabelle, it was a business trip, not a vacation! You knew that when you agreed to accompany me."

"And you knew how badly I wanted to go to Greece! I've wanted to go to Greece since I was a little girl, and read all those marvelous Mary Stewart novels like 'My Brother Michael', and 'This Rough Magic', and 'The Moon-Spinners'. And you promised to take me to Greece, Boris."

"But I did take you to Greece, Prinzessin."

"Well. . .yes, you did, Boris. But, once again, you foisted me off on yet another 'company' wife."

"Flavia. . .Flavia Ionescu."

"Yes – Flavia. And that, Sweet Pea, is how I found myself at the Acropolis, touring the Parthenon, not with you, but with Flavia, who was much more interested in a little. . .ah. . .afternoon delight, than she was in experiencing the glorious history of Greece."

Confused, Boris absently rubbed his eyebrow with his thumb. "Afternoon. . .delight?" Annabelle nodded, and he continued. "But. . .Dragos was in meetings – with me, and twenty other people."

"Well. . .apparently, they have an open marriage."

Boris was having difficulty making sense out of what Annabelle was saying. "But. . .with whom? Afternoon delight. . .with whom?" Annabelle just shook her head, and looked away. "Annabelle. . .I do not understand. Afternoon delight. . .with whom?"

Annabelle shook her head again, and sighed. "With me, Boris. . .with ME!"

Boris was absolutely gobsmacked! "But. . .but. . .Annabelle. . .Flavia. . .she is married. . .to a man! She. . .you. . .you are. . .you are not. . .?! Boris suddenly broke into German; Annabelle didn't have a clue what he was saying, but she knew it couldn't be anything good.

"Boris! Take a breath, Sweet Pea." Annabelle waited until Boris stopped sputtering. "I told you, Boris, Flavia and Dragos have an open marriage – a VERY open marriage. And no, before you ask – nothing happened."

Boris shot Annabelle one of his über intimidating scowls. "Annabelle. . .?!"

"Well. . .almost nothing happened." Annabelle shrugged her shoulders. "She has a thing for redheads."

Boris was rapidly losing his patience. "Annabelle!"

Annabelle threw up her hands in mock surrender. "Oh. . .bloody hell! Boris. . .Flavia did propose a. . .dalliance. Nothing more." Boris looked skeptical. "And then she. . .she kissed me. Boris – I rejected her proposal, in no uncertain terms! And I did not return the kiss."

"Then why, in God's name, did you go out with Flavia that evening?"

"Well. . .that would be because I was very, very angry with you, Sweet Pea. Did you really think that I would be content just sitting in the hotel room, waiting for you, and looking out the windows at all the people down below who were actually out enjoying Athens? Flavia invited me out for the evening. . .and I went. We had a perfectly lovely time. She was on her best behavior. . .and she's really interesting. Did you know that she designs jewelry?"

"Ja; I recall." Studying Annabelle for a moment, Boris stretched his arms out to the side, and then crossed them over his chest. "Well, it would appear that I am guilty of several. . .transgressions. And it would also appear that you have not been completely honest with me." Annabelle opened her mouth to protest, but started coughing instead, so Boris continued. "I propose a. . .a fresh start, ja?" Boris flashed Annabelle his most charming smile. "Annabelle. . .please come to Madrid with me. I promise you. . .we will celebrate Valentine's Day."

"Oh, Boris. . .I don't give a toss about Valentine's Day!" Annabelle drummed her fingers on the table. "It's the bloody principle, Boris. I just don't want to go to Madrid with you. . .and end up being nothing more than your beck and call girl – again."

"My. . .beck and call girl?!" Boris shook his head, not knowing how to respond, and then continued. "Annabelle, let us set that argument aside, for the moment. I promise you – this trip will be different. And when my business is concluded, we could visit one of the islands before we return to the Hamptons – Ibiza, or Majorca? The Canary Islands are quite lovely. . .perhaps Tenerife?" Annabelle wasn't rejecting his offer – yet – so Boris decided to press his advantage. He flashed Annabelle his most charming smile. "So. . .what say you, Prinzessin? Will you come with me to Madrid?!"

Comments? Questions? Suggestions? And where should I go next?! My original plan was two more chapters for this story. . .but that will depend on the response to Chapter Two?!


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